


And Many More

by annejumps



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Birthday Sex, Bottom!Eames, Flexibility, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 04:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur struggled to sit up. “I have a surprise for you,” he said, managing to pull off his white undershirt. “Oooh, sex,” Eames observed. “It’s sex, isn’t it? Hardly a surprise, I daresay.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Many More

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [And Many More](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2620655) by [FatimaAlegra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FatimaAlegra/pseuds/FatimaAlegra)



> Ficlet that I emailed to Liz earlier this year, inspired by [this NSFW gif](http://24.media.tumblr.com/e70f781bb227477abbf456649af821c2/tumblr_monu4j68qD1rn78rxo1_500.gif), which she reminded me of tonight.

“So. It’s your birthday,” Arthur said.

“Mm. Yes,” Eames answered, slightly surprised. “I’m sure I shouldn’t admit that, but yes, it is.”

“It’s fine, you’re drunk.” Arthur looked smug.

“I’m hardly drunk, Arthur, we’re only halfway through your bottle of Moscato.” Eames gestured loosely to the bottle. Arthur was currently lying on him, making such a thing difficult. He stretched to kiss Arthur’s ear. The movie on the telly had been forgotten ever since they’d decided to get comfortable on the couch. “Is that why you planned this, tonight? Because it’s my birthday?”

“Yes.” Arthur struggled to sit up. “I have a surprise for you,” he said, managing to pull off his white undershirt.

“Oooh, sex,” Eames observed. “It’s sex, isn’t it? Hardly a surprise, I daresay.”

“Shut up,” Arthur said, flinging his shirt across the room and bending to kiss him with a firm smack. “Get to the bedroom.”

They were delayed in getting to the bedroom by Eames’ need to wrap his arms around Arthur and keep him close for more kissing. Once there, Arthur stripped off, and Eames was so interested in watching that for the billionth time that he simply sat and observed, and Arthur, pretending annoyance, got Eames’ kit off and pushed him back onto the bed. Eames wrapped around him again, and squirmed, and whispered, “Do give me a good birthday fucking, love” and Arthur finally extricated himself to get the slick. “No need for fingers,” Eames told him, and Arthur glanced at him before coating his cock. “Just fuck me. It’s been ages.”

“Exactly why I should finger you,” Arthur countered.

“Arthur. Just fuck me.”

Arthur shrugged, and did. For some reason, he was standing at the end of the bed, while Eames was on his back, legs akimbo.

“Arthur. Why are you--” he started to say, and then Arthur bent over, still fucking away, and took the head of Eames’ cock in his mouth.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” said Eames.

Arthur huffed out a laugh around his cock. He set up a counterpoint between the end of a thrust and the way he almost drew off Eames’ cock, and Eames just stared, completely speechless.

“Darling,” he finally said, helpless.

Arthur glanced up at him, grinning. Eames let his head fall back onto the pillow for a moment, exhaling gustily, and then raised his head to look again. “Oh, _Arthur_ , Arthur my love,” he breathed. Eames held his thighs wider apart, tilting up his hips, anything to make this easier for Arthur. Wonderful, perfect, amazing Arthur.

Arthur fucked him harder; Arthur sucked him faster. He was starting to go all red in the face. Eames kept up a litany of praise -- Arthur was the loveliest, the cleverest, was everything Eames could ask for. This was heavenly -- Eames could lay on his back, watch and feel Arthur fucking him, watch and feel Arthur sucking him, and finally, watch Arthur as he was about to come, soft sounds in his throat, sudden frantic movements of his hips.

“Come on, darling, come on, give it to me, sweetheart,” Eames murmured rapidly, breathless, his undoing being the moment he imagined Arthur coming inside him at the same time Eames came in his mouth in some delicious cycle of wanton debauchery. He started at that, and perhaps the taste set Arthur off, or the sudden groan Eames couldn’t hold back; he pressed deep, groaning, quick little thrusts as he sucked at Eames, who watched as he spurted a bit on Arthur’s lips and chin.

Arthur drew off and slumped forward, still inside Eames, panting. Eames wrapped around him, dotting his hot face with kisses. “Darling, darling, Arthur, love,” he whispered.

With a low groan, Arthur slipped out, and relaxed on him again. “Happy birthday,” he rasped.

“Oh, indeed. What did I do to deserve you?”

“Dunno,” Arthur replied, muffled. “My back hurts,” he added.


End file.
